Light Side of the Moon
by Ophium
Summary: Coda to 'Dark side of the Moon', so count on heavy spoilers from there. It starts right after the episode ends. Just a quick trip to Sam's head. Complete.


Light Side of the Moon

Sam sighs.

The noise that the amulet makes as it hits the bottom of the empty trashcan, is eerily similar to the sound of his heart screaming, his lungs withering away, his brain imploding. It sounds like a final door closing shut.

The door does close, the physical one alongside with the metaphorical one, leaving Sam staring at the trashcan. Outside, Dean is loading the car, taking the disappointment and hurt away from view but not bothering to hide them anymore.

Sam figures Dean can't. Not now. Probably not forever.

People say that when God closes one door, three more open. Sam can see that now. A different view of events. A different view of his life.

The two sides of the moon.

Light and dark.

His version of events and Dean's.

And it took him this long and a –several, apparently- trip to Heaven to figure that there were two versions at all.

Sam had completely forgotten about that Thanksgiving dinner, a million of years ago. His father had started training him to be a hunter just the year before, taking advantage of the fact that, since the proverbial cat was out of the bag, he might as well make use of Sam's newfound knowledge of what the family business was and what his part in it would be.

Sam had hated that.

Dad had the power to make his life even more miserable. So Sam had taken it out on Dean.

That particular occasion, Sam had kept a secret about Stephanie and her parents' invitation. He'd lied to her, saying that his family usually celebrated Thanksgiving a day later or earlier, depending on his father job; he'd lied to Dean, saying that he'd be home in time to have dinner with him. He hadn't lied to dad because John hadn't even been there that whole week.

John did that often. Skip out and bail on them when it came to celebrating a holiday that had the word 'Thanks' in it... especially when it happened in the same month John had lost his wife; not when he was reminded every year that he had nothing to be thankful for.

So, Sam had made up a different life for himself. One where dad was a handy man in some restaurant, just looking for a fresh start after his divorce and where Sam was just a regular kid who didn't carry a switch blade to school.

Sam had felt like one of the Brady Bunch and, at the same time, like a cool James Bond. It was the first time he had eaten a home cooked turkey; it was the first time he had kissed a girl.

Sam had had so much fun that night, playing a part in that regular, traditional family, just one more seat in Steph's parents and siblings' table. Time had passed so quickly as he smiled and made casual talk about completely bogus facts in his life that he had completely forgotten about his promise to Dean.

When he'd left Steph's house, Dean was there, sitting in the curb, waiting to get him back to the motel. He didn't say a thing, didn't rib him for being late, didn't complain about Sam missing dinner with him.

Sam had completely forgotten about the roasted chicken he'd found in the microwave the next day, decorated with golden potatoes and celery, neatly arranged on a plastic dish; nor did he paid any attention to the boxed stuffing that never got opened.

And Flagstaff...

Dad had decided that they were moving two days before the Math Olympics at school. It hadn't mattered that Sam had been studying really hard to make the team; it hadn't mattered that Mrs. Hubert said the team would be lost without him; all that had mattered was the spirit that was causing havoc in some guy's bakery, two states over.

So, Sam had run.

It was the most fun he'd had in years, pretending to be an adult, depending on no one else but himself to get his next meal. Deciding what happened next, where and when he'd move afterwards. And he'd even gotten a dog, something that John would have never allowed. He had named the dog Bones, but it was Dean whom he'd talked to every night as he fell asleep in that old shack, holding on to the dog's soft fur.

When John finally found him, two weeks had passed. And the man was pissed beyond words.

Actually, now that Sam thinks about it, words were something that hadn't abounded then. Sure, he'd gotten a new one ripped in to him when John brought him back, had been grounded for God knew how long afterwards. But it was the silence that he remembers best.

Dad had resorted to saying little more than barked orders to the both of them; Sam was too pissed at having been caught and grounded to say much and Dean... didn't say a word.

Sam had assumed that that was just his older brother, taking dad's side –as he always did- and giving him the silent treatment. Looking back now, though, Sam sees that it wasn't just to him that Dean wasn't talking. Dean had just stopped talking. Period.

Like when mom died. Because he'd thought Sam was dead too.

Sam sighs again, raking a hand through his tousled hair. Two steps forward take him to the trashcan and Sam leans over. The golden face of the amulet is looking up, staring at him with accusatory closed eyes.

The night he had left for Stanford, it's that amulet he remembers best. He remembers how it would catch the light of the hanging, naked bulb of light on the ceiling of the abandoned house they were crashing in; he remembers it because it was the only part of Dean that he could make himself face. Five inches up and Sam would be forced to look at the pain in his brother's eyes, forced to see the consequences of his actions. He would have never left if he'd done that.

So he didn't. He'd argued with dad, he'd argued with Dean, but not once did he looked up to his brother's face, so he wouldn't argue with himself.

It was the most effective way of ignoring the consequences. What you can't see, what you don't know, can't hurt you, right?

Unless you start the apocalypse and two hunters come in to your room, while you're passed out drunk, and murder you and your brother. Unless Heaven takes the time to let you know just how many doors you've shut close your whole life.

That was the thing that hurt the most. All of his life, it appeared, Sam had been hurting Dean and not realizing it because he was always one step ahead, one state away. Always leaving the broken pieces behind him.

Now... now the damage was as much ahead as it was behind. It was impossible to ignore. It was impossible to disguise. Now they had the world to fix... Sam had his brother to fix. And because that was something so new for him, he had no idea how.

He picked up the amulet from the trashcan, the metal warming inside his closed fist.

Dean had banged one door shut, but three more had opened Sam's eyes.

Turned the Moon in its axis.

The past, that was something Sam could not change, no matter how much he tried. The future... the future was in his hands. And they might not be able to defeat Lucifer; they might not make it to the end without saying 'YES'... but Sam would prove to Dean that they were brothers in every sense of the word and that, despite the choices he's made in his life, Sam's road in Heaven would always lead him back to Dean.

The amulet... the amulet Sam stuffs inside his jacket pocket. Third time is the charm, they say. Maybe this time, the amulet will stay around Dean's neck. Where it belongs.

The end.

AN: Man... what a heart wrenching episode. Hope you guys have enjoyed this little coda. Beta work brilliantly done by the most awesome Jackfan2. All remaining mistakes are there because I want them to ;o)


End file.
